


Burn

by the_realduck



Series: Burn, Bruise, Break [1]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Drunken Kissing, Drunkenness, Dubious Consent, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 16:05:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3735052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_realduck/pseuds/the_realduck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thing was, it had always been there.  </p>
<p>The sort of collapsing feeling in his chest, the urge to smile whenever his eyes met Phil’s. It had been there since day one, maybe even before that. Perhaps the first spark had settled into his chest the first time he’d ever clicked on AmazingPhil; the spark had stayed and grown, and eventually started consuming Dan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burn

**Author's Note:**

> ** Adding the dubious consent because one person is slightly drunk, but everything is 100% consensual. **

The thing was, it had always been there.  

The sort of collapsing feeling in his chest, the urge to smile whenever his eyes met Phil's. It had been there since day one, maybe even before that. Perhaps the first spark had settled into his chest the first time he'd ever clicked on AmazingPhil; the spark had stayed and grown, and eventually started consuming Dan.

Because Phil didn't stay as some beautiful mystery on the other side of a screen, he was the best friend that he had been missing for most of his life. The flirting from the beginning was now so mixed into the tangled web of history that Dan could almost believe that he'd imagined it all, if it wasn't for the stark memories that always lingered on the edges of his awareness.  

No matter how often he tried to shove them to the back of his mind, they were always there. Ghosts of shy kisses and the memory of burning heat across his cheeks; the one aching moment of long fingers gripping at his hips. Dan could replay every almost-something scenario in his mind like it was yesterday.

The first meeting, the week at Phil's house, the gentle kisses on his neck.

Then, nothing. Phil had gotten his own place, Dan had started university, and it was like they both had an unspoken agreement to put it - whatever  _it_  was - on hold.  

But then the fame hit, and everything exploded; the past was a brittle, untouched territory, one they both liked to pretend was long forgotten. 

Except it wasn't.  Because Phil was Dan's every 3 am thought, his every what if.  

Thoughts that normally stayed as late night musings and recently begun to plague Dan's mind during the day. Things had been different lately; not in an argumentative sense, but in the way that silences between them stretched, filled with an unbearable sense of  tension. Dan could tell that Phil felt it too, could see the recognition in his eyes, but neither of them ever brought it up.  

It was terrifying, having feelings for your best friend, and Dan could feel himself reaching the breaking point. He couldn't stand one more night of awkward tension, especially when things had never been awkward between them; so, he had mumbled some poor excuse to Phil about going out to meet some friends, and headed out to the nearest pub. He ended up not drinking too much, disliking the atmosphere without someone to share it with, so he went to the nearest liquor store and waited until he knew Phil would be in bed.

He had lost some time between going back to the flat and collapsing into his bedroom, sat against his headboard, fingers grasped around the nearly empty wine bottle. Dan wasn't quite sure how long he'd been sitting there, he only knew that he felt warm and slightly floaty, and he had far passed the point of pretending to himself that he wasn't in love.

Here in the early morning, time seemed to stop. It simply ceased to exist, so surely it was alright to admit such a thing in a moment where nothing was real. It didn't matter that Dan sometimes had to cross his arms and turn away to stave off the need to reach out, and it didn't matter that sometimes he awoke from sleep with the phantom touch of Phil's fingerprints on his skin.

Dan took another swig from the bottle, and thought that this would all be so much easier if he didn't remember what it felt like. How exactly was he supposed to keep himself together when Phil was sleeping on the other side of the wall? And how was it even remotely fair that Phil was able to exist like he didn't remember at all what it felt like to be young and in love, so  _fucking_ in love. He'd had enough. He'd had enough of the goddamned tiptoeing around and loaded glances, and fuck Dan just wanted to not think. He was drunk and alone and sad; right at that very moment, he wanted nothing more than to be with someone. 

So he slightly clumsily placed the bottle on his bedside table, rose from the bed, shuffled to the door, and pointedly didn't think about what he was about to do.  

He padded across the hall, and silently opened the door to Phil's bedroom.

As Dan crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed, Phil shifted and lifted his head slightly.

"Dan?" slurred Phil, eyes still heavy with sleep blinked up at him. "What're ya doin 'ere?"

Dan's stomach tightened at the sound of Phil's heavier accent and ruffled form.  He couldn't seem to find the words, so  he simply lifted the blankets and slid beneath them, all the while he felt the weight of Phil's gaze.

He burrowed his head into the cool pillow for a moment before turning to face his friend.  "Can I...is this...", Dan murmured haltingly, not able to explain why he needed to be with his friend.

"Are you drunk?" Phil asked, squinting slightly.

"A bit.”

Silence fell as the two of them stared at each other.    
"How were your friends?"

"I didn't see any friends."

"But you said -"

Phil cut himself off as Dan shook his head, perhaps a little too forcefully.  "I just needed a break." he whispered, trying hard not to notice the flash of hurt in the other man's eyes.  He continued after a moment, in an attempt to remedy his previous words. "I just...I needed to not think for a bit."

Phil nodded slowly, clearly trying to understand, and all of a sudden Dan was overwhelmed with an urgency to just tell him.  He couldn't keep this inside anymore, just  _fuck it_.

"I had to try to get you out of my head for a bit."

Phil looked at him with wide eyes before exhaling shakily. "You're drunk, Dan."

Dan shook his head again, muttering, "Not enough."

"Dan-"

"No." he said, and met the other man's blue eyes. "No, Phil."

He looked ready to bolt as Dan shifted closer, still trying not to think about what he was doing.  His fingers shook slightly as he reached out to grip at Phil's shirt, trying to ground himself in the fabric, and shoved his thoughts down for the final time.

He pressed his lips to Phil's.

The other man went stock still beneath him, and Dan pulled away, only to immediately press another insistent kiss against his mouth. He tangled his fingers in jet black hair, feeling tears prick his eyes as Phil remained unresponsive.  

Dan pulled away and rested their foreheads together.  

"Why don't you want me anymore?" The whispered words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them.

A small inhale came from Phil before a hand was placed on his neck. "God, Dan..", he muttered, finally leaning in to initiate a kiss. It was nothing like their earlier kisses, every touch edged with an air of frenetic energy, as if Phil was worried that Dan might disappear from under his hands.

The older man bit gently at the swell of his lower lip, which caused Dan to gasp; Phil didn't waste the opportunity to lick into his mouth.  

The air was thick between them, and Dan couldn't quite believe this was happening, his slightly drunk brain having trouble trying to process all of the sensations he was feeling. They were so intertwined that he wasn't sure whose hands were whose, his heart beating so loudly that he could feel the thump of his pulse in his ears.

"Please don't hate me," he managed to gasp out before Phil pulled him back in. "Fuck, don't hate me." Dan didn't understand why the words were coming out of his mouth, but it didn't matter because Phil pushed him onto his back and leaned down to kiss him again as Dan hitched a leg around his hip.

In the morning this would be a bitch to deal with, but Dan didn't give a fuck as long as Phil just kept on.

**Author's Note:**

> I told myself that I would never write rpf. I am officially going to hell.
> 
> Also I'd love feedback, I've never written phan before so feel free to tell me if it sucked!


End file.
